Yo Mama

Yo mama.

She's great, I know.

If she's anything like my mama she's your good friend.

And you talk about everything, right?

No, not right.

Yo mama did not tell you about some things. It's true, I promise.

At least my mama didn't tell me about everything.

And neither did anyone else for that matter.

Like, for instance, why didn't anyone mention that if you color your foot black with Sharpie to hide the fact that you got a run in your pantyhose BEFORE you left the house that it wouldn't come out for three days...and counting?

Now, I love a good Sharpie, but there's a reason why you're not supposed to use it on your skin.

Consider yourself warned.

But you probably don't need that warning.

Because you probably wouldn't do that...on account of the fact that you don't have baby brain...piled on top of mom brain.

Well, good for you. But I do, which means I can't come up with simple words like "cough drops" and "picture frames" when in everyday conversation with co-workers.

You think I'm kidding, but I'm not.

And my mama didn't tell me about that either.

That I would completely lose my brain after having babies.

I'm thinking about getting some Ginko Biloba...or maybe just one of those 5-hour energy drinks.

Don't judge me yet.

I can still perform complicated tasks like concatenating. It's the easy stuff like, you know, conversation...and stuff...that eludes me.

See what I mean?

But again, unless you can not only say concatenating, but you know what it means and you can perform it for me as proof, you are not allowed to make fun of me.

Let's talk about why you can make fun of me.

And you guessed it, yo mama didn't tell you about this either.

So, I have a little human being making eyeballs inside my belly, right?

And he's busy in there. So he's not paying any attention to where his hands and feet are flying...or his disturbingly pointy head and bottom for that matter.

And I have no control over that.

Which means I have no control over...other things.

Let's just say if we are friends...have a little compassion about letting me use the bathroom in every store we walk into. Or pretending that you don't smell that.

Because I'm going to pretend that I didn't do it.

Deal? Good.

I know there were other things I wanted to mention here, but I can't remember right now.

No really, it's true.

And it's 8:30 pm.

Which, at this point in life, is WAY past my 7 pm bedtime.

So if I remember, I'll be back.

Otherwise, I'll just try to post more often.

I said, try, stop laughing.